


Rebecca Faces Her Fears

by heartbash



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post Episode: 3x11, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 03:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13604733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartbash/pseuds/heartbash
Summary: What would have happened in 3x11 if Nathaniel had opened the door just a little bit earlier?





	Rebecca Faces Her Fears

**Author's Note:**

> This is my head canon for what I wish would have happened at the end of 3x11. May be a multi-chapter work depending on how I feel about Nathaniel after the next two episodes.

_You home? Alone?_

_Yeah? Why?_

As I stand in front of his door, my heart is in my throat. A million questions race through my brain, each of them fighting for my attention.

Am I ready for this? Is he? Do I love him? Can I trust him? What if I tell him about my issues and he changes his mind? Can he handle a relationship with me?

I reach into my pocket and feel the folded piece of paper there. I rub it between my fingers. Suddenly my knees are weak. My hands are sweaty. This was a bad idea.

After my session with Dr. Akopian just a few hours ago, I sat in my car, trying to make myself believe her words. I flipped down the driver’s side mirror and stared at myself. I deserve love. I deserve love. I kept repeating it to myself in my mind. I tried saying it out loud. The words felt awkward and foreign in my mouth.

Nathaniel’s emotional confession echoed in my mind, “I’ll forget about everything else.” My stomach did a flip.

I am the queen of denial.

Deep down, I knew this is what I wanted all along, but was too afraid to face. Too afraid to face the reality what it meant for us and, more importantly, for my mental health. I was resolved that I had to talk to him before Monday morning. I would never be able to face him at work and pretend everything was normal.

But now, as I stand here, I realize this was a mistake. I haven’t even planned what to say. This was too impulsive. Dr. Akopian’s wrong. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’m so stupid for thinking I was ready. This day was already so emotional for me. Why did I think I could add this on top of it? I should have at least waited until I felt less raw.

Shut it down. I turn and beeline for the elevator. But just as my heels start clicking down the hall, I hear his door open. He heard me.

“Rebecca, wait,” he calls after me and I freeze. “Where are you going?”

I don’t want to turn around because I know as soon as I see his face, I won’t be able to hide my emotions. I hear him slowly come up behind me and I can sense that he’s just a few inches away from me. He and I are magnets, inexplicably drawn to each other over and over. And so much of me wants to just let myself stick.

He waits for me. I feel the time stretch. He says nothing, doesn’t move, doesn’t touch me. Just waits.

There’s nowhere to run. I take a deep breath and turn around. His face is so hopeful it shatters me. He’s smiling until he takes in my expression and then, in an instant, his face falls. I’ve already disappointed him. His eyes are darting around my face, like he’s mentally trying to put together pieces of a puzzle that won’t fit.

“Rebecca, what’s wrong?”

I swallow hard. My voice comes out scratchy and raw, “I wanted...to talk.” I’m looking everywhere but his eyes and I can’t help it.

His voice is soft and comforting, “Ok, why don’t you come in and we’ll talk?”

I’m frozen for a moment but he puts a warm hand on my back to guide me into his apartment. I shrug off my jacket on the arm of the sofa and then perch uncomfortably next to it. He sits beside me, but leaves a safe distance between us.

“Um, I don’t know where to start,” I begin, desperately trying to keep my voice from breaking.

He interrupts me, “Listen, Rebecca, before you say anything...I broke up with Mona today.”

I’m taken aback by this admission. “What?”

He’s looking down at his hands. “After you ran out of the office, I went to her apartment and I ended it. You were right. Of course you were right…” He shakes his head, “What I was doing to her...and to you...was not fair.”

I feel sick to my stomach. “Is she ok? Did you tell her about...?”

He sighs and his hands continue to fidget nervously, “I didn’t tell her about the sex. I realized I would be doing it just to clear my own conscience and it would only hurt her. But...she knew about you.”

I don’t understand what this means and it must be written all over my face.

He continues, “She and I...there was kind of an understanding.” He pauses and appears to be choosing his words. “She figured out how I felt about you pretty early on. Apparently there was something about the way I acted when I texted or called you,” he rolls his eyes. “I never hid it because we’re work partners and have legitimate reasons to stay in touch. And, ironically enough, I’ve also been waiting for the shoe to drop with her and her ‘work husband’ Derek,” he finished with air quotes. He looks pointedly at me with a half-smile, “her voice has a very familiar ‘man of my dreams’ tone, which isn’t lost on me.”

I can’t help but let out a small laugh. I feel a sense of relief wash over me. “Wow,” is all I can squeak out in the moment.

“We care about each other, but I think we both knew we were just biding our time. I know how that probably sounds,” he looked up at the ceiling and sighs.

“Why draw it out so long?”

“I think we got comfortable. And honestly, I was afraid of rocking the boat with you. You said you didn’t want a relationship but you were willing to continue...what we were doing. I was afraid if I changed anything that it would scare you away. Again, I know that sounds crazy.”

“Actually, it’s not crazy,” I say softly. “You’re right. I probably would have pulled away.”

We sit in companionable silence for several minutes. I’m trying to digest everything he just told me.

“Rebecca, whatever you came here to say...I can take it,” he says, obviously trying to sound confident. I can tell by his expression that he’s bracing for another rejection.

I close my eyes and inhale and exhale deeply. “Ok... Nathaniel,” I turn to him and try to muster every ounce of courage I have. I take both of his hands in mine and scoot closer to him. There’s fear in his eyes. I don’t think he’s breathing. “I do want to be with you, but honestly I’m scared of what that means for me.”

I’ve surprised him. His face lights up in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen. I can tell he’s trying to control his reaction and he’s failing miserably.

“But wait... need to tell you some things and you need to really listen.”

“Ok,” he says but can’t wipe the grin from his face.

I close my eyes for a moment, “Please, this is really important.” He visibly tempers his excitement and nods for me to continue.

“Less than a year ago, I tried to kill myself,” I start, wanting to get his attention and drive home how serious this is for me. His eyes dart away and I follow them. “Look at me, that’s what happened,” I emphasize and he returns my gaze. “I was unhealthily obsessed with Josh. And then, when he left me, I felt that abandonment so viscerally, so intensely...it utterly consumed me. And you saw what happened next.”

 

“This past year I’ve been working really hard on myself, so that I never go to that place again. And I have made a lot of progress. I...cannot...lose...that.” I enunciate each word. He’s nodding and I desperately hope he’s getting it.

“I think the reason this relationship hasn’t triggered any obsessive behaviors is that I never really had you,” I say and shrug. He shakes his head but says nothing. “There were clear boundaries. I’m terrified now of what will happen if those boundaries are gone.”

“What can I do?” he asks earnestly.

“The truth is, it’s mostly about what I have to do. I’m going to be working at this my whole life,” I say and tears prick my eyes. I look up and try to blink them away. “Um, but we can set different healthy boundaries. No more sex at work. No sleepovers every single night,” I say, referencing our two-week relationship where I practically lived at his apartment. “Nothing drastic in the romance department. We have to take it slow.”

“Ok.” He squeezes both my hands and then unclasps one of them to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Oh, and I need you to go to this,” I get up and rummage through my jacket pocket to find the flyer. I unfold it nervously and hand it to him. “It’s a support group...for people with loved ones, like friends, family, or partners, who have personality disorders.” As he’s reading the flyer I start to panic. His expression is hard to read. Oh no. This is too much for him.

I grab the flyer from him. “Sorry, this is...too much.”

“No, no, “ he stands and gently takes it back from me. “I’ll do this. I’ll go.” He puts the flyer down on his counter and smoothes out the folds.

Suddenly tears fill my eyes again and I know this time I won’t be able to stop them. “I’m sorry. This is a lot. If you’re regretting this…” my voice breaks.

“Stop, stop,” he says and wraps his arms around my shoulders. My arms go around his waist and I bury my face against his chest. His smell is familiar and comforting and I want to bury myself in it. One of his hands tangles in my hair and the other rubs my back. I feel all of the tension and buildup from the day well up inside me in a giant crescendo.

I sob openly, probably getting his shirt full of mascara and tears. “It’s ok. It’s ok. I’ve got you,” he whispers into my hair. My heart swells. How many times have I wanted someone to say that to me? How many times have I wanted someone just to be there, to catch me, to love me? I hug him tighter and squeeze my eyes closed. I relax into him and my body melds with his. He’s strong and solid and, in this moment, I feel safe and protected in a way I don’t think I’ve ever felt with a man.

When I’ve finally run out of tears, I pull away. He opens his eyes and I see they’re red. He cups my face with both his hands and rubs my tears away with his thumbs. “Listen, I know I’m far from perfect, but I’m going to try to be who you need me to be for this to work. And if I’m doing something that’s not ok, please please tell me. Promise me you’ll do that.” I nod vigorously.

He smiles and I’m overcome by how significant this moment feels. This is the most honest I’ve ever been with a man about who I am and what I need. And he’s still standing here. This is moment is a thousand fruit-scented scratch-and-sniff stickers. I can’t help but break into a smile. I’m proud of myself. I start laughing. And then he starts, it’s contagious.

His eyes drift down to my lips and I lean in and we meet in the middle. He kisses me, languid, slow, and deep. Most of our kisses in recent memory have been frantic and desperate, trying to drink up as much of each other as possible before our time is up. But this is a kiss of two people who have all the time in the world. It’s a kiss with no end game or destination.

He pushes his tongue into my mouth and I tilt my head to lean into it. Between the kiss and his hands cradling my face, I feel like he’s trying to devour me. And I love it. I remind myself that I no longer have to hide how much I want him or keep quiet or hurry up and get on with it. When he moves his hands to my waist, I wrap my arms around his neck and press myself into him with a soft moan. He breaks the kiss and nuzzles my neck, breathing me in. Then he takes his time trailing kisses along my neck and jawline.

As much as I want to let him take me to bed and stay holed up in a sex cocoon for several days, the exhaustion for the day hits me like a freight train.

“Hey,” I say and push him gently away. “This day has been a lot for me. I think I should go home and take some time to process everything.”

“Yea...yea, of course,” he says with a tinge of sadness. “Can I text you?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see you tomorrow? I’ll take you out on a real date.”

A change in scenery is certainly appealing after months of supply closet hook-ups. “Ok, yea, let’s do it.”

“Ok,” and he leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

“Ok, bye.” I leave his apartment feeling accomplished. I set a healthy boundary. I can do this. I deserve love.

As I’m getting in my car, my phone chimes.

_How do you feel about a day trip to San Diego?_

**Author's Note:**

> Email: heartbashfic@gmail.com


End file.
